


I Remember You

by Taybay14



Series: Saving people, writing prompts [38]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A dark yet fluffy fic, A meet-cute with blood and a lot of swearing, Alternate Universe - Canon, Amnesia, Amnesiac Castiel (Supernatural), Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Army medic Dean Winchester, Badass Castiel, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Date, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Evil Castiel (Supernatural), Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Hurt Jimmy Novak, If you can have a meet-cute on a battefield?, M/M, Meet-Cute, Military, Nurse Meg Masters, Probably not... so like a meet-cute... but not a meet-cute, Protective Dean Winchester, Soldier Dean Winchester, Soldier Jimmy Novak, World War 3, flower shop owner castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25772383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: Prompt Fill:Cas is follows his brother Lucifer and has the same distaste for humanity. But one day he loses his memory and personality and is found by Dean who takes him in. Cas falls in love and marries Dean leaving Lucifer baffled. - longkissgoodnightbatmanandtwofac
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Saving people, writing prompts [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/453034
Comments: 19
Kudos: 121





	I Remember You

Castiel chuckles to himself as he walks by a human soul being tortured. He loves coming down to the pit and visiting his brother Lucifer. It's always so fascinating- so entertaining - to see the demons at work. Castiel could watch for hours as a worthless, pathetic, disgusting little human gets shredded on the rack. 

"Brother," Castiel says with a smirk as he enters Lucifer's throne room to find his brother with a naked human slave on his lap and two more at his feet, all three collared and attached to leashes that Lucifer holds. 

Lucifer shoves the human off of his lap in annoyance and stands up with a grin. "Castiel! How was your time up on the mainland?"

This turns Castiel's smile into a twisted scowl. "Abhorrent."

"Did you accomplish what you set out to do?" 

"Of course." Castiel rests the toe of his shoe on the tips of one of the human slave's fingers, putting his hands in his pockets as he casually watches the slave tremble. "Humanity is so vile. So quick to betray and wrong. To kill. It was easy." 

"A toast then!" Lucifer announces, snapping up a pair of champagne flutes and handing one to Castiel. He lifts his in the air. "To my little brother, the genius."

"Here here!" Castiel says with an amused laugh, lifting his own glass before placing it to his lips and sipping. 

Feeling extra celebratory, Castiel shifts his weight, breaking 21 of the 27 bones in the slave's hand. He frowns, disappointed. He _is_ a perfectionist after all. Castiel twists his ankle and presses harder. The final six crackle as the slave shrieks and shrieks and _shrieks_. 

He shoots Lucifer a wink before lifting the glass in a second toast. "And to World War III. May this be the one that finally ends it all!"

" _Amen_ to that."

\----

“Father, we can’t let this go on anymore.” Michael gets up from his chair and begins to pace. When he catches sight of one of the many televisions on the wall showing the world’s news he angrily waves his hand, turning all of them off. He can’t look anymore. “It’s our responsibility to help. This isn’t the human’s problem. It’s not a mess they made themselves. This is Lucifer and C-” Michael has to stop, the name of his youngest brother catching in his throat. 

They should have seen it coming. The red flags were there. Michael had the feeling that Lucifer was turning bad but he had ignored it. Especially when Lucifer took the new fledgling under his wing. He had seemed like such a great big brother. Patient. Kind. He taught Castiel how to fly. He taught him how to fight. He taught him how to heal. 

He taught him how to lie. 

He taught him how to hate. 

He taught him how to rebel. 

Castiel was _good_. He was the first fledgling father let Michael help create. Michael poured all of his heart into that little angel. All of his hope for the world. He knows that Castiel could be good. If only he hadn’t been corrupted so young. 

If only he could start over. 

When Michael lifts his head to look at his father, he’s smirking. “There you go, Michael. I knew you’d come up with a solution.”

“You think it’d work?”

“Castiel’s the one with the power. He never lost any power. He never officially fell from heaven. Lucifer is weaker without him. Lucifer is _beatable_.” His father shrugs a shoulder as if he doesn’t know the future. 

Sometimes Michael wants to just scream at him. To beg him to tell Michael what to do. Other times, like right now, Michael feels very satisfied that he came up with an idea on his own. 

“I know what to do.” Michael stands tall. Proud. He looks his father in the eye and exudes confidence, knowing his father won’t appreciate any sign of weakness or doubt in the moment. “I’ll make it foolproof. I’ll use my own sword.” 

His father grins. 

\----

"Incoming!" 

Dean Winchester drops down and puts a hand on his helmet, praying whatever it is heading for them miraculously misses him. He's been lucky in this war, but he's not naive. Dean's aware that luck is bound to run out sooner or later. 

He hears, "Medic!" shouted from three different directions, each voice frantic and desperate. His heart thumps in his chest. Which way should he go? Which way is the destination for the bullet that will take his life? Which way is his ticket home? 

Following his gut, Dean runs to his right. He drops to his knees in front of a man in army fatigues that match his own. His dark hair is curly and matted with blood, most of it coming from a huge gash in his head. A flash of white makes Dean cringe. It's never good to have an exposed skull out on the field.

"It's okay, buddy. I've got ya," Dean assures, digging in his bag for gauze. He presses it against the man's head and smiles when he's rewarded with two very bright blue eyes. They're almost surreal in this place stained by mud and blood and evil. Dean doesn't have time to appreciate something poetic like that, though. No. All Dean cares about at the moment is that the man's pupils are regular and he's tracking Dean's movements without delay. 

"Can you tell me your name?"

The man weakly shakes his head, groaning when it hurts too much. 

"Novak," Dean says quietly, wrapping his fingers around the man's dog tags. "Jimmy Novak. Does that sound right, Jimmy? You remember that?"

"N-no," the man admits, fear widening his eyes. His chest rises and falls too fast and Dean flinches. 

"You need to calm down for me, Jimmy. Calm down."

"I don't know who I am!" the man cries. "I don't know what's going on?"

"I know." Dean cups the less injured cheek of Jimmy, trying to comfort him. He looks over his shoulder and yells for an evac. Thankfully the bombing and gunfire is starting to slow. The medivac helicopter might be able to sneak through now. "Everything will be okay, Jimmy. I promise. You're gonna be just fine."

When Dean looks back down at Jimmy, his heart lurches. The man is unconscious, his breathing too shallow for Dean's liking. 

"Fuck no," Dean growls, getting up on his knees and slipping into his training."You're not going anywhere, Jimmy. You stay right here with me. Stay right here. Don’t you die on me you fucker. I’ll kill you, you hear me? Keep fucking breathing.”

Dean keeps him alive for 21 minutes before the helicopter finally comes in. He gets a concussion, shrapnel in his face, and a bullet nick on his right shoulder. He doesn't care. When Jimmy Novak gets put on that helicopter, he's stable. Breathing. Alive. 

It’s all that matters. 

\---- 

It's his third day in the hospital and they still haven't been able to get Jimmy to remember a damn thing. He knows how to speak. Knows the names of everything. He understands how things work. Is aware of bodily needs and functions. He has all of the knowledge a man in his 20s should have, but when it comes to anything personal, anything at all, it's just… blank. A void in his head that he keeps trying to swim through, only to wind up exhausted and drowning. 

"You have a visitor," Nurse Meg says with a smile as she brings Jimmy his breakfast on a tray. 

Jimmy frowns. "Who?" 

"A Lieutenant Winchester. He's cute."

Jimmy flushes. _Cute_. He doesn't even know if he finds men cute. Or women for that matter. He hasn't paid much attention these past 3 days. The realization that he's not even sure if he's gay or straight makes his dull headache throb. "I'm not sure I'm up for visitors."

"Well, he outranks me, so I can't exactly tell him no." 

"Oh."

"I think he just wants to say a short hello."

"I don't know him," Jimmy grumbles. 

Nurse Meg smirks. "Well, to be fair, you don't even know yourself."

Before he can tell his nurse to fuck off, she does it anyway. It's only a matter of seconds before she's been replaced, a man close to Jimmy’s age standing in the doorway. He's familiar. Especially his green eyes. A ping goes off in Jimmy’s chest at the relief of that. 

"I remember you," Jimmy whispers in awe. 

Lieutenant Winchester perks up and grins. "Really? They said you might not." 

“You swore a lot. Called me a fucker.” Jimmy smiles fondly at the memory. “Said you’d kill me if I died.”

The Lieutenant laughs. “Yup. That was definitely me. I’m surprised you remember that, you were pretty out of it most of the time.”

“It’s pretty much all I remember to be honest.”

“Yeah… they mentioned that. Sorry to hear.”

“It’s okay.” 

“Have they been able to track anyone down for you? Family? Friends?”

“No.” Jimmy frowns. “No one from my unit seems to know who I am either.”

This seems to throw the Lieutenant off, his easy-going attitude slipping. “No one?”

“Nope. I’m on the books, full records showing my time at basic-training and AIT. My deployment orders. All of it. But not a single person recognizes me by name or picture.”

“Well… okay. I’m sure there’s a reason for that.” 

“Yeah. I mean, war gets things messed up all the time anyway, right? Who knows. Maybe I ended up jumping with a different unit or something. Never even ended up with the unit I was assigned. It could happen, right?”

The Lieutenant is smiling again, nodding his head. That eases Jimmy’s anxiety a bit. “That could absolutely happen. Yes.” 

“Not that it matters, of course. They’re kicking my ass out. Said my brain is too fucked up for combat.”

“What about everything else?” the Lieutenant asks. “The rest of your injuries? How ya healin’ up?”

Jimmy shrugs, laughing a bit incredulously. “Everything else is… fine. Really fine. Other than my memory, I don’t even have a scratch on me.”

The Lieutenant just gapes at him for a moment. Then, “That’s… impossible.”

“Yet, here I am…” 

“Wow. I-” the Lieutenant shakes his head, squinting at Jimmy like maybe he can see the answers somewhere on him. He looks uncomfortable, yet fascinated. It takes him a few seconds before he manages to get a hold of himself and remember he’s being impolite. Then he turns the conversation in a different direction. “So, you’re going home then?”

“Yeah. On my records it claims I’m from some place in Kansas. Maybe if I go there, someone will recognize me.”

“No shit.” The Lieutenant rocks on his heels, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking. “I’m from Kansas. Lawrence.” 

“Lawrence?” Jimmy sits up a bit. “I’m from Lawrence.”

The two of them just stare at each other. It’s Jimmy who breaks first. “Jesus, that’s like… cosmic, hey? What are the odds?”

“Want to know what’s even crazier?” When Jimmy nods, the Lieutenant says, “I’m out too. My contract’s up. I’m going home in two days.”

“Three for me.” 

“Well, isn’t that something.” Lieutenant Winchester’s smirk softens and there’s something in his eyes that Jimmy feels like he should understand. It feels important. _Maybe… love? No, not love. Jimmy knows in his mind that love is something that happens over a long period of time. Like married people and all that. But it could be… what’s the word? Shit._

_What’s that word?_

_Lust?_

_Hope?_

_Fondness?_

A mixture of all that, perhaps. 

Either way, when Lieutenant Winchester suggests, “Maybe we could get something to eat or grab a drink once you’re settled in?” Jimmy nods rapidly. 

“I’d like that, Lieutenant.” 

“Dean. You can call me Dean, Jimmy.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Jimmy feels his stomach flutter and he realizes he finds guys cute. This guy at least. The jury is still out as far as his ‘label’ or whatever goes, but Dean Winchester is definitely pushing all the right buttons for him. “Well, Dean, I’d really like that.”

“Can I have your number, Jimmy?”

“I don’t have a number,” Jimmy admits. Then he snorts. “At least I don’t think I do.”

“Okay, fair enough. I’ll give you mine then?”

“Yes.” Jimmy fumbles around until he finds the pen and book of crossword puzzles that Meg bought for him.

Dean takes it, writing his number on the inside of the cover. When he hands it back to Jimmy, he gives him a dazzling smile that takes Jimmy’s breath away - literally, one of his monitors beeps at him. “See you soon then.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says as he fights to even out his breathing. “See ya soon.” 

\---- 

Jimmy works up the nerve to call Dean Winchester nine days after getting his number at the hospital. He’s sitting in his apartment that he can’t recognize for the life of him. Eating chinese takeout from the only menu he had on his fridge. Staring at a photo of him standing somewhere that looks to be a mountainous area. Sitting next to a throw pillow that says “Save The Bees” with little bumble bees flying around it. It all feels homey, but detached, and that’s why he finally gives in to calling Dean. The one and only thing Jimmy fucking remembers from before waking up in that hospital. 

He forgets about the whole after-midnight-thing until Dean answers with a foggy voice and a slurred, “Hello?”

“Shit. I woke you up.” Jimmy squeezes his eyes shut, hating himself. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“Who is this?” 

“Oh, shit. Yeah. Jimmy. Uh… Novak. Jimmy Novak. We met in-”

“Yeah, Jim. I remember ya,” Dean says with a soft laugh. “Thought maybe you forgot me.”

“No. No, definitely not. You’re the one thing I remember.” 

“I can’t decide if I should be flattered or feel bad about that.”

Jimmy smiles. It’s the first time in quite a while. “You saved my life. It’s memorable.” 

“Pssssh. Excuses excuses.” 

The two of them laugh. It feels so damn good. Jimmy wishes he could bottle up the moment and memorize it. Keep it with him. 

The thought brings him down from the high. Silence wraps around them, choking Jimmy. Bringing tears to his eyes. What if he forgets things again? What if he puts in all this effort to rebuild a life and then it’s taken from him? 

What if he forgets Dean?

“It’s almost one in the morning,” Dean says softly after who knows how long. “Can’t sleep?”

“I never sleep,” Jimmy admits. 

“Me neither. At least not without the help of Jack or Jim.”

“Who?”

Dean snorts a laugh. “Whiskey. Types of whiskey.”

Whiskey. Jimmy recognizes that. It’s alcohol. Something he has yet to try since coming home. He somehow knows that it makes people foggy, and can even cause loss of memory. Jimmy doesn’t need any extra help with that. 

“Still there, Jimmy?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

“Do you want to meet up?”

Jimmy frowns. “Now?”

“Yeah. What else are we gonna do? You can’t sleep, and I slept off my whiskey so now I can’t either.” 

“Okay. Where do you want to meet, then?”

“There’s a pancake house on fifth. You know where fifth is?”

“Strangely… yes.” Jimmy stands up and starts walking to his room. His memory isn’t the best, but he’s pretty certain boxers and a ratty shirt that claims someone in Idaho loves him does not work for a late night meet-up at a restaurant. Especially with a cute man. 

“See ya in 20?”

“See you then.”

\---- 

Dean is unnaturally nervous as he sits in the booth waiting for Jimmy Novak. He’s been a mess since he entered the restaurant. Dean wasn’t sure if he should sit, or wait in the lobby. When the woman told him people usually sit, he chose that. But then she asked if he wanted a drink and he didn’t know if it was rude to already have a drink when Jimmy showed up or not. He could really use a coffee, but that seemed like too much so he had settled for a water. 

A water he subsequently spilled a minute later. 

At least the table covers his wet pants. 

Of course, when Jimmy Novak does in fact walk into the restaurant, Dean realizes he can’t be chivalrous by standing up and saying hello to him. He does this sort of awkward half-stand before falling back down in his seat at the last second to keep the table covering his pants. Dean can feel his face grow hot, and his damn words come out stuttered and nervous as he says, “Jimmy, hey. Ya - ya made it.” 

“Yes.” Jimmy gives him a nervous smile as he tentatively slides into the opposite side of the booth. He fiddles with the silverware that’s wrapped in a cheap napkin, his hands shaking. Dean wants to reach out and hold them - steady them - but he’s not sure if Jimmy would want that, so he fights the urge. 

“So, this place has great burgers. Milkshakes too.” 

Jimmy tilts his head with an adorably confused expression. “But… this is a pancake house.” 

“Right.”

“Shouldn’t we eat pancakes?”

Dean laughs, shrugging. “We could. You’re more than welcome to. I’m just sayin’. This place has great burgers. And milkshakes. If you get pancakes, you gotta at least order a milkshake.”

This seems to leave Jimmy a bit perplexed, but he eventually nods. “Burgers and milkshakes it is, then.” 

“You won’t regret it.”

Jimmy scrunches up his nose like he isn't entirely sure if he trusts that, but he doesn't argue. Dean figures that's a good enough start. 

\---- 

Burgers and milkshakes from a pancake house are delicious. More than delicious. Jimmy is sure a different word exists, but if he ever learned it, he’s forgotten. 

Dean is even better, though. Dean’s absolutely amazing. 

They talk for hours, neither of them noticing the sunlight as it begins to pour in through the windows of the diner. Jimmy was medically discharged from the military, and Dean was honorably discharged, so both of them have uncertain futures ahead. They seem to find comfort in that together. Dean talks about maybe opening up his own auto-shop, talking passionately about cars and music and his late father who taught him everything he could ever know about both. He tells Castiel about his little brother Sammy, who is in his final year of law school. Jimmy can tell from listening to him that Dean is extremely proud of his brother. 

They talk about Dean’s hobbies - playing guitar, cooking, and restoring classic cars. They talk about his mom - his favorite memories of her, how he misses her, how she made the best damn apple pie on the planet. They talk about his Uncle Bobby - a crabby old bastard who practically raised him and his brother. They talk about his Aunt Ellen, and his cousins Jo and Ash. They talk about an ex-boyfriend, Benny, who still lives in Louisiana and is one of Dean’s best friends. He’s who taught Dean to cook. He’s also who helped Dean take the last step out of the closet. 

Jimmy talking about himself is much more difficult, but he tries. He tells Dean his records show that he has no living family, but he thinks maybe he had brothers at one point, because in the back of his mind he has this foggy, distant memory of feeling too young and too confused as he watched his older brother’s fighting in front of him. Jimmy tells Dean he thinks if he did have brothers, that their relationships were complicated. He likes to believe that he loved them, though. 

Jimmy has no ideas what hobbies he would like. He tells Dean about the Save The Bees pillow in his apartment, and the picture of him hiking a mountain. They come to the conclusions together that he’s probably some variation of a nature freak. Dean suggests Jimmy might like gardening. Jimmy finds himself smiling because he likes that idea an awful lot. Dean says he can’t stand working out just to work out, but he’s always up for work outs that serve other purposes like hiking or kayaking. They agree that tomorrow - or today, once they get some rest - they’ll do one or the other together. Maybe even both. 

Jimmy isn’t sure about any ex’s - boyfriends, girlfriends, or otherwise. Jimmy isn’t sure about his sexuality, even. He admits to Dean, as he feels his face heat up, that all he knows is he likes _Dean_. 

“I like you too, blue eyes,” Dean says with a goofy grin. He reaches a hand out and takes one of Jimmy’s, holding it on top of the table. Jimmy feels his own face split into a grin to match Dean’s. 

“Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

“Thanks for not dyin’ on me.” Dean’s gaze goes a little dark, his grip on Jimmy’s hand tightening. “It’s always so damn hard when they die on me…” 

Jimmy squeezes Dean’s hand, his heart hurting for the man. “I’m sorry. I guess that’s one good thing about my memory issues… I don’t remember any of that. Losing friends. Seeing… the horrors I’m sure you’ve seen. I can’t imagine.” 

The smile Dean gives him is sad, so Jimmy changes the subject by asking, “So, do you think maybe you could teach me how to cook? I have a feeling from my limited pots and pans, and my battered chinese takeout menu on my fridge, that I’ve never been very good at it.”

This gets Dean to light up again. “Hell yeah. Lessons start today.” 

“After a nap,” Jimmy reminds him, because now that he’s starting to feel normal, and hopeful, and like maybe he could one day be happy, the exhaustion is hitting him hard. 

“After a nap.” Dean smiles. “Would you - would you maybe want to come to my place? For the… nap. I’m not coming onto you. At all. I really mean just to sleep. But I thought maybe it’d be nice, ya know, to have… someone. I don’t know. Never mind. I-”

“I’d like that,” Jimmy says quickly, cutting poor Dean’s nervous rambles off. “I think it’d be nice too.”

Clearly relieved, Dean pays for their meal and takes Jimmy’s hand in his. He drives them in a gorgeous Impala that he and his dad restored themselves. They listen to a mixed-tape. Dean holds Jimmy’s hand the entire way. 

Dean’s house is small and cozy. It has a little wrap around porch that Jimmy thinks would be perfect with a swing. The yard is tidy, and there’s definitely potential for a lot of gardening. 

Realizing he’s getting a little ahead of himself, Jimmy stops daydreaming about what he’d changed about this man’s house and allows himself to be led inside and up a set of stairs into a bedroom instead. He strips down to his boxers and t-shirt, because that’s what Dean does, and crawls into the side of the bed that Dean leaves open. 

After a brief moment of awkwardness, Dean tentatively wraps his arms around Jimmy’s body and pulls him in so he’s the little spoon to Dean’s big one. “This okay?” 

“Yeah,” Jimmy whispers, grinning like an idiot as he sinks into the warm touch. Since he can’t ever remember being held like this in his life, it feels like the very first time. It’s enough to make him a little dizzy. “This is perfect.” 

\---- 

Without ever really talking about it, Jimmy and Dean start to spend every night together. During the days, they hang out, sometimes being lazy and watching movies - because Jimmy somehow knows pop culture references but can’t for the life of him remember the Star Wars movies, and that’s just not okay with Dean, not at all - sometimes going out and adventuring. They kayak. Hike. Bike. They go to music in the park every Thursday. They do cooking lessons… at least for a little while. Jimmy is an awful cook. After he almost burns Dean’s house down, _twice_ , they agree that Jimmy should just sit with his wine, keeping Dean company while Dean cooks. 

And then, every night, without a word, the two of them sink into Dean’s bed and hold each other. 

Just hold each other. 

They smile. They sleep. 

They’re happy. 

\---- 

Their first kiss is 3 weeks after the night at the diner. Dean is in the middle of a passionate spiel about airplanes and how chunks of metal that size should not be up in the air, whether it’s physically possible or not, and Jimmy finds himself thinking, _“Holy shit, I love him,”_ and then he’s lurching forward, grabbing Dean’s cheeks with slightly rough hands and pulling him in for a clumsy kiss that’s more clacking teeth than anything else. 

With a soft chuckle, Dean guides Jimmy’s mouth away from him for a moment and then slowly, carefully, brings their lips together again. He directs the kiss this time. It’s much better, in Jimmy’s opinion. Gentle. Thorough. Even-paced. When he breaks the kiss, pulling back, Jimmy releases a breathy laugh and admits, “That was amazing.”

“I can agree with that.”

“Sorry mine was…”

“It was your first kiss. Ya did fine, Jim.”

“Okay.” Jimmy blushes, peeking up at Dean through his lashes. Then, “Can we practice?”

Dean throws his head back, barking a laugh. Then he nods and grabs Jimmy’s face. “Yeah, Jim. All the practice you want.”

Then they’re kissing some more. 

They kiss all night long. 

They kiss and kiss and kiss. 

They kiss until Jimmy’s lips feel tingly and puffy. They kiss until Jimmy thinks he’ll never survive without Dean’s kisses again. They kiss until Jimmy is a pretty damn good kisser. 

Then they fall asleep, just so they can wake up and kiss some more. 

\---- 

Jimmy moves into Dean’s home on a sunny Saturday morning a few months after their homecoming from the war. Considering Jimmy has very little emotional attachment to anything in his own home, he just packs his bumble bee pillow, tea kettle, and a box of clothes. Dean’s brother Sam and his best friend Charlie come over that afternoon for a barbeque to celebrate. 

When Jimmy sees Sam for the first time, their hands touching as they shake them in greeting, something jolts along Jimmy’s spine. For the briefest of moments, he’s in a red and black room, screams in the background, a foggy figure speaking words he can’t quite make out. With a gasp, Jimmy lets go and stumbles back from him. 

“Babe?” Dean asks, reaching out to stabilize him. “You okay?”

“I - um.” Jimmy looks from Dean to Sam before shaking his head. “Have we met before?”

Sam points a finger at his chest. “Me?”

“Yeah. We’ve met, I think.”

“Nope. Not that I can recall, at least…”

Frowning, Jimmy tries to remember what he had just seen in his mind. He tries to make sense of it. The room. The screams. The figure. And he tries to understand what any of it has to do with Sam. 

“I’m going to go get a drink of water,” Jimmy says quickly. He gives Dean a fake smile. “I think I just got a little dizzy there.” 

Before anyone can stop him, Jimmy hurries off to the kitchen and gets himself a glass of water. He leans forward after a sip and tries to take deep breaths. When he closes his eyes, he sees that room again. He sees a man on a throne. There are others around him. Screams. There are so many screams. And the smell - god it smells awful. Like - like death. Death on fire. 

_“Castiel,” someone says. A male. Jimmy is pretty sure it’s a male speaking. The voice is rumbly and low. “How was your time up on the mainland?”_

_There’s something on the ground near Jimmy’s feet, but Jimmy can’t see what it is. “Humanity is so vile.”_

_Someone cries out. There’s the clinking of glasses. The bubbly taste of champagne bursting on his tongue. A pained shriek. No. Shrieks. The person won’t stop shrieking. And laughter, maniacal and cold._

_“To World War III. May this be the one that finally ends it all.”_

“Jimmy?” Jimmy snaps his eyes open as a very real hand clamps down on his shoulder and squeezes. “Jim, babe? You okay?”

Unable to find his voice, Jimmy just turns to Dean and stares at him. “Babe? You okay?” 

Jimmy shakes his head, swallowing hard. “I - I’m - uh.”

“Jim?”

“Castiel,” Jimmy whispers. 

“What?”

“Castiel. I - I think my name is Castiel.”

Dean just stares at him for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “No… remember, babe? Your tags said Jimmy. Jimmy Novak.”

“But I think it’s Castiel.”

“Why?” Dean’s eyes widen, lighting up. “Did you remember something?”

“Yes. I think so.” Then Jimmy shakes his head. “But, no. It didn’t. It made no sense…”

“What was it? What did you remember?”

“I can’t explain it. There was a man, and he - we - I can’t explain it.” 

Dean nods. “Okay. That’s okay. Maybe more will come? Maybe your brain is starting to heal or something.”

“Yes,” Jimmy whispers, looking away from Dean. Was that a memory? Was it just a scene from a movie he saw? He seemed too real to be a movie or something. It felt as if he had experienced it. _But… how could he have? All the screaming? That awful acrid smell? The talking about the war as if they wanted it to happen? As if they were celebrating it? It felt… evil. The whole memory felt very evil._

_Is Jimmy Castiel?_

_And, possibly more important, is Castiel evil?_

\----

Jimmy never has a memory like that again, though sometimes he wakes up convinced he had dreamt of something similar, screams echoing in his mind even as his brain claims he hadn’t dreamt at all. He still gets a strange feeling near Sam, but he’s decided that it’s just because of the memory-that-hopefully-wasn’t-a-memory that came to him when they touched that day. 

The whole thing fades over the months. Jimmy opens up a flower shop with one of Dean’s friends, Rowena. She has an amazing green thumb and loves teaching Castiel all about the flowers. Dean opens his auto shop. They giggle about being a power couple and attend the Town Entrepreneur's Banquet together in rather dashing tuxes, if they do say so themselves. Whenever Jimmy messes up on a flower arrangement, or someone never shows up for their order, or a flower’s petals get crushed a bit, he brings the flowers home to Dean. He loves how they make him smile. Dean doesn’t bring anything home but motor oil, but Jimmy doesn’t mind that one bit. He’s always up for a joint-shower so he can help scrub the man clean. 

They’re happy. Happier than happy. 

On their one year anniversary of their first date at that diner, Dean brings Jimmy back for burgers, fries, and milkshakes. He goes down on one knee when Jimmy is mid-sip of a milkshake, earning Dean a faceful of milkshake and ears that ring from the loud, “Yes!” Jimmy screams the moment his mouth is free. 

Two days later, a man in his late 40s walks into the flower shop. He has short blonde hair, a scruffy beard, and eyes that Jimmy swears flash red for just a second when the light catches them. 

“Castiel,” the man says in a hauntingly familiar voice. His grin is wide and joyous, but evil. It sends something sick crawling along Jimmy’s skin. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, brother.”

\----

“I think you have me confused for someone else,” Jimmy says slowly, trying not to panic as the memory of his dream fills his mind. He shudders as he hears the evil laugh echoing from the nightmares. It sounds a lot like this man before him. Too much like the man before him. “You should leave.”

“Brother-”

“I’m not your brother.”

“Castiel, your memory has been manipulated.” The man steps forward, his hand outstretched. “Allow me to-”

“Get away from me!” 

"Babe?" Jimmy and the stranger both stop at the third voice, looking over in the direction of it. Dean is standing in the doorway to the storage area where he was taking inventory for Jimmy. He scans Jimmy like he's checking for apparent injuries before his eyes flick to the stranger. Jimmy watches as Dean shifts, becoming larger and harder in defense. "Is there a problem here?"

The stranger scoffs before turning back to Jimmy. "A human? Really? Is this what you've been up to, Castiel? Fucking a monkey?"

"Excuse me?" Dean barks. He comes forward until he's in between Jimmy and the stranger. "You can leave now. Whoever this Castiel person is, it's not Jimmy."

"Castiel-" the stranger growls.

"Leave. Right. Now," Dean orders. 

With a roar of fury, the stranger flicks his hand and sends Dean flying across the room. Dean's body hits the wall with a sickening crunch as Jimmy screams. He runs over to Dean on trembling legs, hands outstretched, but an invisible wall stops him. He turns to the stranger in confusion and terror. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to _remember_." The stranger walks forward and presses two fingertips against Jimmy's temple. "Remember _everything_ , Castiel."

Jimmy falls to the ground in a tangle of limbs and a gasp. His vision goes black. 

Then, he's seeing… everything.

_The fish_

_The tower falling_

_Cane and Abel_

_Michael promising to teach him everything he knows._

_That idiot Colombus_

_Lucifer corrupting him._

_Michael begging him._

_Starting the war._

_Stepping on a poor humans hand and liking it._

_Waking up on the battlefield to beautiful green eyes that already felt like home._

Castiel jolts awake. He has no idea how he hadn't noticed before, but there's a thrumming electricity beneath his skin. It's fire on his fingertips. Power begging to be used. 

He lifts a palm and sends Lucifer flying just as Lucifer had done to the love of his life. Then he's shattering through that invisible wall and cradling Dean's face, that familiar blue glow emanating from his skin and seeping into Dean's. It only takes a few seconds but to Castiel it feels like centuries. 

Dean blinks his eyes open slowly before frowning up at Castiel. As awareness returns, his frown turns into panic. "Are you okay? Where is he? Call the cops!"

"Hey. Shhh. It's okay," Castiel promises. He can see Lucifer moving slowly off to the side. "Just stay here, okay?"

"Babe-"

"Stay. Please." Castiel kisses his forehead and then pushes to his feet. He turns and faces his brother. He feels sick to his stomach as the memories continue pouring in. The things they had done together… the thing Castiel had done… 

"Fun is over, Cassie. We have to finish this. Remember? It's so close. The world is so close to ending. Then daddy won't have his precious Earth anymore with his precious little humans." 

"Stop. Talking."

Lucifer frowns. "Castiel, focus. They played games with your mind. They-”

“I said,” Castiel growls, stepping forward and raising his hand. “Stop. Talking.”

The windows and vases in the store rattle before shattering. The lights burst. Dean cries out, “What the fuck?” and Lucifer hits the floor, his eyes hollowed out into crispy black voids, not a trace of grace left in him. 

“Jimmy?” Dean asks. “What just happened? What is going on?”

Castiel turns to Dean, watching as the man clumsily pushes to his feet. He’s lived a very long life. Much longer than many - including angels. Yet, Castiel never once felt alive. 

Not until Dean. 

Not until he was Jimmy. 

So, Castiel makes a decision. He steps forward, puts a hand to Dean’s forehead, and says, “It’s going to be okay.”

\---- 

Dean wakes up with the worst headache in the fucking world, wincing at the bright lights around him. He tries looking around as stars dance in his eyes. Blinking hard a few times helps. Shapes begin to form. Moving shapes. People. People are around him. 

“Mr. Winchester?” someone asks. “Mr. Winchester, can you hear me?”

“Loud,” Dean whispers, wishing the person would stop fucking yelling at him. “Jimmy?”

The voices are muffled. 

Far away. 

He’s feeling tired, his body wanting to sink under again, but he can’t let himself fall back asleep until he knows Jimmy is okay. 

“Jimmy?”

“Mr. Winchester-”

“Just get out of the way,” someone that sounds like Sam grumbles. The person is pushed off to the side, making a very indignant sound, and then a new form is filling the space in front of Dean. 

It’s only a blurry outline, but between the chaotic curly hair and the nervous hand fidgets and the sound of his voice when he says, “Shhh, Dean, it’s going to be okay,” Dean knows exactly who it is. 

“Jimmy.” Dean sighs in relief. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything is fine. You have a concussion. The store got robbed.”

“Robbed.” Dean blinks harder as he tries to process that. He remembers this. A man came in. He tried to talk to Jimmy. They all started to fight. The man had some sort of weapon. Something that made Dean fall to the ground. It’s the last thing he remembers. “Jesus, Jim. How did you fight him off?”

The love of his life’s image clears just in time for Dean to see the beautiful man’s cocky grin. “I hit him in the head with a vase.”

“A very large vase,” Sam adds, looking at Jimmy with a proud smile. “He killed the man. Saved both of you doing it.”

“Wow.” Dean looks at Jimmy again. His chest aches as he realizes how close he got to losing the man he loves. “Thank god you’re okay.”

Castiel’s lips twist into a smirk. “Yes. Thank God.” 


End file.
